


Last Ditch Effort

by RoonilWazlibMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, HP Creature Fest 2020 - Quarantine Creature Comeback, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentor Severus Snape, Post-War, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Vampire Harry, Vampire Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoonilWazlibMalfoy/pseuds/RoonilWazlibMalfoy
Summary: Severus Snape made a last ditch effort to save Harry Potter's life but at a very high cost. How will Harry cope with his new life and how will those around him react?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Severus Snape/Percy Weasley
Comments: 15
Kudos: 203
Collections: Creature Fest 2020 - Quarantine Creature Comeback





	Last Ditch Effort

**Author's Note:**

> This story is different from anything I've ever done before and it was a real challenge, but I had a lot of fun with it. A huge thanks to my lovely muses and to my beta, A, for making sure it wasn't a disaster. Big thanks also to the mods for running this awesome fest! 
> 
> Prompt S29 from 2017

The night was neither dark nor stormy, but Harry Potter wandered the castle imagining that it was. It seemed somehow cooler to be a mysterious vampire roaming around a castle on a dark and stormy night than it did to be a vampire that everyone knew, a vampire in trainers and denim, skulking about a cheerful, homey castle full of children at night. There was no dark and stormy. The full moon shone brightly through the windows in Gryffindor tower, the stars were unobstructed by clouds, and the whole wizarding world was at peace. 

The whole wizarding world, with the exception of one Harry Potter, that is. 

The battle had raged fiercely on the very grounds of Hogwarts mere months before. Ultimately, Harry had been victorious. He had conquered evil and he had survived, but at a price. He now wandered the castle not because he couldn't sleep, but because he no longer needed to. Harry Potter was no longer the Boy Who Lived; he was the Boy Who Hadn't Died, the Boy Who Should Have Died.

Shortly before going to meet Voldemort for that final standoff, he'd found Severus Snape in the Shrieking Shack, bitten by Nagini and bleeding, but not dead. He'd soon find out that Snape would find death no more easily than Harry now could. Snape had done this to him, Snape had done this for him. He'd passed over a vial saying, "Drink this. You must survive." And Harry had done so without question. Snape's dark voice had been so convincing, he'd left no room for argument. The thick red liquid had burned going down, but it left him feeling invigorated. 

Invigorated enough to watch Snape's memories, invigorated enough to go to Voldemort, invigorated enough to evade death once more. Or something like that, at any rate. 

When he had awoken from the killing curse a few hours later, he knew a hunger like he had never known before, even as a starved little boy in a cupboard under the stairs. His teeth had seemed too large for his mouth. He had no wand at that point, and he had not needed one. He had simply flown at Voldemort in a blood-lusty rage and ripped the man's throat out, gulping down large quantities of the monster's blood. 

It had all been completely instinctive but, thinking about it later, Harry was surprised by how sweet that blood had been. It should have tasted like acid, like evil, but it hadn't. It had tasted of magic, rich and raw, dark and sweet like black muscat. Snape told him that it was likely due to the fact that the Dark Lord had been more magic than human at that point; dark magic, tempting magic, driving his fragment of a soul to madness and his blood, apparently, to dark honeyed sweetness. Harry wondered if he'd ever taste anything like that again. 

When the Dark Lord had fallen, his mangled throat crimson, the people around hadn't known whether to cheer that a great evil had been vanquished or recoil from their Saviour- turned-vampire, standing before them covered in blood. A bit of both had happened, Harry was certain. He was only grateful that, in the chaos that ensued, Snape had stepped out of the shadows to save him yet again, to take him aside and explain what lengths he'd gone to to ensure that Harry would survive, to explain what Harry was now.

Harry had been aghast in those first moments after the Dark Lord's defeat, horrified at what he'd done, at what he'd become. "So, I'm a monster!?" he had asked, his voice shrill with shock. 

"Yes," Snape said sharply. "Now drink this." He passed another potion vial to Harry, this one a clear sunny yellow. "It will allow you to go into the sun unharmed. I do not want to have gone through all of this to save you only to have you walk out into the sun and combust at first morning light, like the idiot that you are."

Harry drank the potion. 

~○~○~○~○

Snape had been the first to accept him as he now was, and the only one that he was truly comfortable around anymore. Snape provided him potions to keep him safe and he allowed Harry to talk at him when he needed to unload. It was strange. Severus Snape, the man his own father had bullied mercilessly, had become more like family, more of a father figure to him, than anyone had ever been before. 

His friends, who'd been with him through everything, now seemed a bit on edge, as if this was one thing too many. The Auror Department had revoked their offer of a job for him, citing an old statute that forbade those with creature blood from serving on the force. McGonnagall, the new Headmistress, had allowed him to return to Hogwarts, but he suspected that had much to do with Snape as well. She couldn't very well refuse the Saviour a spot based on his vampirism when her own potions professor had been a vampire on the school grounds for years, even though it hadn't been widely known. 

He wasn't sure that Hogwarts was really the place for him anymore. But he wasn't really sure where his place was, so back to Hogwarts he went. 

Being back was strange. At first, his magic was more focused than it had ever been, which helped, but going to classes still felt awkward. Hermione seemed to have fallen back into it like they'd never left, of course. Ron hadn't even come back at all, opting instead to go into the Auror Corp because he had been welcomed where Harry had not been. Harry didn't begrudge him that at all. He deserved good things in life. But being here without him felt wrong, especially as no one really knew how to treat him anymore. He didn't even know how they should treat him. 

He could smell their blood. He could smell the blood of anyone around him and it called to him. But he had enough self-control to keep that to himself, for the most part. He had starved before and he could do it again. He knew it wouldn't kill him and he refused to ever lose control like he had at the final battle again. The overwhelming taste of magical blood lived in his memories and that was enough; it would not touch his lips again. 

"You will need to drink blood at some point, you know," Snape told him when he shared these thoughts. "You will live without it, but you will grow weak, more useless even than you currently are."

Harry shrugged off the insult. He had learned the difference between Snape's affection and his venom, though the line between the two was remarkably fine. 

"What about you, Sir?" he asked, certain that he had the upper hand here. "When do you drink blood, if it's so important?"

Smirking, Snape said, "Do you honestly believe you know everything of my life? That I am but a simple potions teacher who lives all of his days and nights in these dungeons?"

"You hunt people?" Harry asked, aghast.

"No, Potter, I do not hunt people," he said, his dark eyes narrowed. "I have a lover, if you must know. I've had donors in the past. You will find that there are many people who enjoy the bite of a vampire. Currently I have a lover and I find it to be a rather satisfying arrangement for the both of us." His smirk was back in place.

The thought of Snape with a lover was… well, it was something. It was not as repulsive to him as he thought it probably should have been, if he was being honest. "So," he said slowly, "You have a girlfriend and you just… bite her every now and then? And she's okay with that?"

Snape snorted. "Please, Potter. Not all of us are so staunchly heterosexual as you apparently are. But shockingly, you have summed it up fairly nicely otherwise. I bite  _ him _ and  _ he _ is more than okay with that. We both find it to be quite pleasurable in the right circumstances."

Frowning, Harry said, "I just don't think I will. You saw me at the battle, Sir. I'm not doing that again." He was firm in his resolve and ignored the smug look on Snape's face as he thought. He thought about Charlie and Bill and Cedric. He thought about Draco Malfoy. "And I'm not staunchly heterosexual, ta everso," he said without thinking. 

Snape laughed aloud then, a throaty rumble that he'd never before heard from the man. "Will wonders never cease," he said, leaving Harry blushing and resenting his giant mouth for letting words just fall out like that. 

~○~○~○~○

A few weeks passed and Harry was beginning to understand why Snape kept urging him to drink blood. He'd offered a number of times to accompany him to Hogsmeade to seek out a donor, but Harry continually refused. He did find himself growing weaker all the time, though. 

As he cast no reflection any longer, he could not see it, but Hermione and Ginny had both tentatively mentioned that he was looking paler than usual, that he had dark circles under his eyes. He could tell they'd been afraid to bring it up, perhaps afraid that he'd attack them the way he'd attacked the Dark Lord, mad with the need for blood, which is why he brushed them aside and why he continued to refuse Snape's offers. He was not mad with hunger. His magic was less focused and his body more weak, but he could control this. He had to. 

His nightly wanderings were slower now, his magic no longer so powerful. He could still feel it thrumming beneath his skin though, keeping him alive no matter what. He refused to give in. 

~○~○~○~○

Another few weeks went by and he knew that he must look a fright. Nearly everyone seemed to be avoiding him, eyeing him warily as if he'd snap at any moment. He'd even caught Draco Malfoy staring at him, his pale eyebrows drawn together and something like concern in his grey eyes. It didn't matter, though. He could survive this. He would not become the monster they all thought that he was. 

Everyone seemed to be avoiding him except for Snape, of course. He had taken to avoiding Snape on his own, a lonely but necessary decision. The man seemed ready to abduct him and force him on some unsuspecting donor. His black eyes flashed with annoyance every time that Harry refused him, every time that Harry ducked around a corner when he saw Snape coming toward him. Still, he did not push, probably assuming that Harry would crack on his own eventually.  _ Well, he's wrong if that's what he thinks _ , Harry told himself. He could take the glares from Snape. He would not back down. 

He did not sleep any longer, but his waking dreams were red and hazy. Ghostly memories of blood on his tongue beckoned him to take another taste. His limbs felt heavy and his bones seemed to grind together as he moved, but he would not give in. He couldn't! He would not be that monster again. 

~○~○~○~○

It was inevitable, really, that his body would give out before his mind did. He had always been incredibly stubborn, but that stubbornness did not necessarily extend to physical strength. 

Perhaps, even, the manner in which it happened was inevitable, but it gave Harry no satisfaction to think of it like that. It gave Draco Malfoy quite a bit of satisfaction, but that meant nothing to Harry. Not at the time, anyway. 

Performing well in class had, by that time, become impossible for Harry. His body felt too heavy, his mind too weak, his magic working full time just to keep his bullheaded body going. He continued to go to class though, just out of sheer obstinacy. It took him longer to traverse the halls, and even picking up his quill had become something of a chore, but he kept going nonetheless. 

It was a chilly November morning when everything changed. He dressed himself clumsily, his fingers numb, and began the long walk to the Charms classroom. He skipped the Great Hall altogether. His friends didn't seem comfortable with him there and food did nothing for him anyway. 

Shuffling along, he stared at the grey stone floor. It did not matter if he watched where he was going anymore. He knew his way around the castle by now and he knew that no one would get in his way. 

Just a few feet from the classroom, though, he stumbled. Whether it was through his own self-induced weakness or if something had tripped him, he did not know. All he knew was that, before he could even reach out to catch himself, there were strong arms wrapped around him, holding him up. He could smell blood and magic and the fresh scent of clean woolen robes. His fangs pushed out of his gums, digging in to his lower lip. His eyes grew wide and he began to struggle.  _ Godric, please don't let me lose control, _ he thought wildly. 

"Calm down, Potter," he heard a sharp familiar voice speak. "I've got you. I'm taking you to the hospital wing."

Settling down was the last thing in his mind. "No," he begged through clenched teeth. His incisors had punctured his lip now and the weak taste of his own sluggish blood filled his mouth. "Snape. Take me to Snape," he managed to say.

The man who was holding him steady nodded once and then scooped him up, carrying him bridal style down the hall. He was powerless to resist, in spite of the indignity of it all. It was all he could do to keep his jaw clenched. 

His head lolled, coming to rest against a firm, strong shoulder, then he opened his eyes and realized who was carrying him. From his vantage point, he could only see a pale throat, the pink shell of an ear, and a few locks of silvery-blond hair. "Malfoy," he said quietly, his teeth still clamped tightly together. 

"Merlin, Potter," he said, ignoring Harry. "You're so light. Why have you waited so long to go to your donor?"

"M'not drinking blood," Harry said as firmly as he could while being carried around by another man. "Never again."

Draco stopped walking then and looked down at Harry. He didn't think he'd ever been so close to Draco Malfoy before. "How long has it been, Potter?" The concerned look was back on his face. Harry noticed, not for the first time, that Malfoy was rather beautiful. 

"Since Voldemort," he said, closing his eyes again. He had no interest in being judged by Draco bloody Malfoy.

He resumed walking then, at a much quicker pace than before, and as he walked he ranted. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Potter?" he snapped. "I am certain that Snape told you all you needed to know, so this is on you, you great bloody idiot. So you died. So what? We've all gone through some things, Potter. Leave it to you, precious Chosen One, to decide that, yet again, the rules don't apply to you. Well, guess what… you're wrong this time." His posh accent rang out, making his tone seem that much harsher.

"I'm not going to die," Harry objected stubbornly. 

Draco laughed, a mocking sound that Harry was all too familiar with. "Oh no, Potter. You won't die. You're already dead, for all intents and purposes. It's far worse than that. You'll shrivel up, a mere husk of yourself. You'll be little more than flesh on bones. But, you're right. You won't die. You'll just be trapped in that shell of a body, your mind fully intact, unable to move or sleep or do anything at all until someone takes mercy on you and drives a stake through your pathetic heart."

"I don't want to be a monster!" Harry finally snapped back, baring his teeth at Malfoy. 

"Salazar, Potter. Have you seen yourself? You're already more than halfway there."

"In case you'd forgotten, Malfoy," Harry said, his voice thick with sarcasm, "I can't see myself. I don't have a bloody reflection anymore!"

Leaning back against the wall next to Snape's classroom, Draco sat Harry gently on his feet then laughed out loud. His Adam's apple bobbed in his pale throat as he did so and Harry couldn't take his eyes off him. "You got me there, Potter. It's safe to say, though, you don't look good. You'd be less monstrous than you are now if you’d just fucking eat."

Raising his pale hand, he knocked on Snape's door then waited calmly until the man opened it. Snape's face was dark with annoyance until Draco said, "Could we use your chambers, sir? Potter is going to drink my blood now." Harry glared at him, but the look on Draco’s face left no room for argument. 

Snape visibly relaxed then. "Very well," he said smoothly, his tone still measured despite his relieved expression. "I shall return momentarily," he called to his class darkly. "Continue your work as if I were there or face the consequences." He then led them down the hall a short distance, muttered a password to a stone snake on the wall, and let them into his private rooms, hesitating by the door.

"Do I need to stay to ensure that all goes well?" he asked. He looked incredibly uncomfortable with the idea, his thin mouth even more downturned than usual. 

"You don't need to stay because I'm not doing that," Harry said, though his arguments were somewhat less effective with his weak voice and over-large teeth. 

Snape sighed and rolled his eyes. "Very well, then. I trust you know how to incapacitate him if necessary?" He asked and Draco nodded confidently. "I shall ward the door, then. Send a patronus if you need me." And with that he turned and left, closing the door behind him. Harry heard the tell-tale whoosh of wards settling into place and knew that he wouldn't be getting out until the current class was over at the very earliest. Snape's wards were powerful and, at the moment, Harry was not. 

Slumping down into the nearest chair, he glared at the other man. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"

Malfoy rummaged around in the kitchenette as he answered. "I've been watching you, Potter. It's not healthy and you don't deserve this. You saved us all and they're treating you like some sort of monster," he said simply, selecting a glass and sitting down across from Harry. 

"I am a monster," Harry said dryly. "I'm quite sure you noticed the giant fucking fangs." He raised his lip in a grimace, baring said teeth at Malfoy for the second time that morning. 

"Hmm," Draco hummed, gazing calculatingly back at Harry. "Not really. You're a vampire. Father has several acquaintances who are, at least one of whom you know rather well" he gestured around at Snape's quarters. "Hell, even old Slughorn had a vampire at his Christmas do two years ago."

"Sanguini," Harry recalled. He hadn't been so bad. A bit odd and creepy – so was Snape for that matter – but definitely not a monster. And definitely not as weak and useless as Harry was. It didn't matter though. None of them had done the kind of thing that Harry had done, ripping someone apart in front of a crowd. He told Malfoy as much. 

"The thing is, Potter, that was your first time. If everything had gone as it should, it would have been private and Professor Snape would have been there with you and your donor would have been willing. Snape would have taught you what to do and kept anyone from being harmed. It happened the way it needed to… I assume that he only turned you for your ensured survival?" Harry nodded. "Right," he continued. "So it couldn't happen that way for you and that was unfair to you. But it wasn't because you're a monster and it wasn't your fault."

Rolling his right sleeve back, Malfoy produced a knife from his school bag and pressed it deeply into the inside of his elbow, hissing as the blade sliced into his flesh. Harry's eyes widened as blood began to well up from the cut, flowing steadily into the glass that Draco had picked up earlier. He almost choked on the scent, the sweetest thing he thought he'd ever smelled. 

The same hunger he'd felt during the battle rose up fiercely within him, a hunger he'd been suppressing without a thought for months.  _ Godric, help me say no to this _ , he thought wildly.  _ I don't know how to say no to this _ .

"Here," Draco said after healing the cut with a wave of his wand. "It's fresh, but you can't hurt me even if you want to. If you recall," he said, holding up a graceful hand to block Harry's objections, "I do know how to block you. I grew up in a Dark Magic household and spent two years living with Death Eaters."

Harry noted that he did not seem to count himself among the number of Death Eaters but did not comment on it. He had been absolved of any crimes by the Wizengamot after the war, after all. 

It didn't take long before Harry was reaching out for the glass. He didn't want to. Merlin help him, he did not want to. But he couldn't seem to hold himself back. Harry Potter could resist the Imperius Curse, but no one could resist this hunger, this thirst, this aching burning need. "Promise you'll stop me if you need to," he said, his voice thick, his words lisping around sharp incisors. 

Grey eyes watched him carefully as Draco leaned back in his chair regally, filling it as a prince would fill a throne. "I have no intention of risking myself, Potter. You have no need to fear."

And then the glass was in his hand, rich red liquid filling it. It smelled like heaven, like desire and sex and fire and electricity. It smelled like magic. 

Tentatively, he took a sip, moaning as the sweet honey mead flavour spread across his tongue. He drank slowly, savouring it, but steadily, like a man who'd been starved. He was a man who'd been starved. He could feel his magic reacting, racing through his body, absorbing this life-giving fluid and working it into his body, into his bones. Embarrassingly, he felt his cock harden inside his trousers, something he hadn't felt since before he'd died. 

As he finished, he slumped back down in his chair, feeling spent as if he'd just had sex, despite the fact that his cock was still throbbing in his pants. He looked up at Draco and found him smirking, his hawthorn wand held loosely in his hand. 

"I've been told that food and sex are all wrapped up together for your people," he said in a tone of false nonchalance. "Didn't Snape tell you that?" He raised one pale eyebrow in amusement.

Harry didn't think this situation could possibly be more embarrassing. He lowered a hand and pressed firmly against his crotch, stomach muscles clenching from the sensation. He felt no shame for it. Malfoy had clearly expected this and had wanted to embarrass him. It was no wonder Snape hadn't wanted to hang around. "This didn't happen with Voldemort," Harry said, his voice tight with arousal. 

Draco laughed again. "I should hope not!" he said, trying to reign himself in. "Largely because your body was still transitioning at that point, but also. You know. The Dark Lord was not exactly fuckable."

"Jesus, Malfoy!" Harry laughed and then groaned, pressing on his cock again. "Not what I wanted to be thinking about right now."

"Likely not," he replied, his smirk back in place. "You can call me Draco, you know. You've had my bodily fluids in your mouth, so I think we're there." He smiled wider at Harry’s blank expression. "The loo is just through there," he said, gesturing down a hall. "Why don't you go take care of that? We've still got at least an hour before Snape comes back to let us out."

The thought of going to wank in a bathroom while Draco Malfoy sat here knowing that he was wanking did not sound particularly fun. On the other hand, sitting here with a hard-on in front of Draco Malfoy sounded less fun. Grimacing, Harry stood, pleased at how much easier it was to stand now, at how much clearer his head felt. He turned and headed for the loo without giving Draco a backward glance. 

Once inside, he shoved his trousers down to his knees and gripped his aching cock, bracing one hand against the wall. It only took a half-dozen strokes before he was spilling all over his hand and the wall in front of him. The image that flashed in his mind just at that moment was of a pale pointy face, harsh and handsome, framed by silvery-blond hair.

That was not a thought he was willing to entertain just then. He looked down at his hand and, curious, stuck out his tongue and tasted the creamy fluid lingering there. It didn't taste sweet like blood, but it tasted far better than human food tasted to him now.  _ Nope, _ he thought.  _ Definitely not staunchly heterosexual.  _

He cleaned himself and the wall and, after righting his clothing, smeared what he hoped was home-brewed soap over his hands and washed them. Draco was still sitting just where he'd left him when he returned. He gazed at Harry with his eyebrows raised, an amused look on his lovely face.

"Better now?" he asked, his gaze flickering down to Harry's crotch. 

Cheeks red but head held high, Harry cheekily replied, "Much better, thanks!"

"Good," Draco said, tilting his head to one side. "You know, if you ever wanted a more hands-on experience, I'd be willing." The tilt of his head exposed the clean line of his throat. Harry could see his pulse steadily beating away. 

Eyes wide and mind racing, he struggled to change the subject, asking after Draco's plans for after school. Thankfully, he allowed it. They spent the rest of their time chatting about anything and everything. Harry was surprised at how funny Draco was when he wasn't trying to torment Harry or his friends. He was also surprised at how well they got on, at how much they had in common. 

When Snape came to check up on them, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Harry had finally done what he'd been so resistant to before, that he'd not gone wild with need at the sight and smell of fresh blood, and that they hadn't attacked one another at all. He warned Harry that he would not be allowed to try the starvation method again and Harry found, surprisingly, that he was no longer so bothered about that. It was the other stuff that occupied his mind now. 

He left with his body feeling lighter and more healthy than he had in months and his mind far more full. 

~○~○~○~○

Sheepishly, Harry headed to Snape's office that evening. He hadn't been there for weeks while he'd been avoiding the man and now he knew that he had to apologize. Snape hadn't been wrong at all. Harry had simply been stubborn as usual.  _ When am I going to learn that Snape is the only one who really takes care of me? _ he wondered.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him as he walked in and closed the door behind him. Harry looked into his dark eyes apologetically and walked toward him. Those black eyes grew ever wider when Harry didn't stop; he simply went for it, walking right up to the man and wrapping his arms around him, burying his nose in heavy woolen robes.

"I'm sorry for not listening to you," he murmured into Snape's shoulder, certain the man could hear him. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Snape's body was stiff and unyielding. He did not embrace Harry back, but neither did he push him away. After a moment he laid a long-fingered hand on the back of Harry's head, touching the wild curls that grew there. "I never expected you to be anything other than a complete imbecile," he replied.

Stepping back, Harry grinned. That had been nothing short of genuine affection coming from Severus Snape. 

"Still, you could have told me that drinking blood would make me… you know," he glanced down at his crotch. 

Snape chuckled darkly. "If you'll recall, I did try to prepare you for it and you refused to hear a word of it. You claimed that you did not need nourishment to survive."

"Yeah, well," Harry started. "I might have been a little bit wrong there. But Draco, erm, Malfoy I mean, caught me off guard. He didn't really leave me any other choice."

Humming, Snape said, "Yes, well there is much to be said for Slytherin cunning. It can be far more useful than the brash recklessness that some possess." Amusement danced in his eyes as he turned back to his desk and began marking some essays that sat there. "You could do worse than Draco Malfoy, you know," he said, not looking up.

Laughing nervously, Harry said, "I'm not! I mean. I'm not interested in Draco... I mean Malfoy!" Even as he spoke, he knew he was lying and he was sure Snape knew it too. His mind drifted back to pale hair and paler skin, to a smooth exposed throat, and a calm "I'm willing." Merlin, he was fucked. And not in a good way.

"Perhaps you should start being interested in him then. I assure you, he did not 'catch you off guard' for no reason. And he is quite intelligent enough to have known what feeding would do to you," Snape answered calmly, setting aside one essay and moving on to the next. "It would not hurt you to get to know him better. At worst, you'll have a donor and that would be a positive. Do not think I'll allow you to go more than a week without blood again," his words punctuated by a dark glare. "At best, you may have something deeper, something more."

It was odd hearing Severus Snape talk about love, even in such a roundabout way, but Harry found that he liked it. Snape deserved happiness after all that he'd been through, all that he'd done. Harry suppressed a giggle as he thought about Snape's lover being his new step-dad. He decided to keep that ridiculous thought to himself, though. 

"Is your partner someone I know, Sir?" he asked, trying to get Snape's mind off the topic of him and Draco.

"Yes," the man replied simply.

"Does he work at Hogwarts?"

"No."

_ So this is how we're playing it,  _ Harry thought. Of course, Snape would never just hand out personal details. He shrugged. At least they weren't talking about Draco and blood and raging boners anymore.

"Does he work at the Ministry?"

"Yes." Snape glanced up then and pinned him with a curious look before returning to his work.

"Is it Kingsley?" Harry could actually picture those two together. They'd make a striking image, both tall and powerful, one dark-skinned and one pale.

"No."

"Is it Arthur Weasley?" Harry asked, laughing.

"Get out," Snape said, his expression now a mixture of amusement and disgust. 

Harry turned to leave, still chuckling. "Good talking to you, Sir!" It was nice to know that all was forgiven, that he still had Snape even if he had no one else. Well, no one other than Draco.

~○~○~○~○

It wasn't exactly intentional – well, maybe it was – but Harry spent nearly all of his time with Draco after that day. He had seen the shocked looks that Hermione and Ginny had given him when he turned up fully recovered from his lack of nourishment. He knew what they were thinking. They refused to ask and he was not about to offer up any information, so he simply stayed by Draco's side as much as possible.

For his part, Draco didn't seem to mind. In fact, Harry was left wondering if the Slytherin had any friends left either. Not many snakes had even returned for 8th year and, of the few that had, none seemed particularly welcoming to their former leader. 

As the days went by, he grew ever closer with Draco. He found that Draco was wicked smart, rivaling Hermione in his study skills and surpassing her in his creativity. They laughed and joked together as much as he and Ron had ever done. And even more than any of that, there was a kind of spark between them. Harry felt a rush of emotions whenever he was around Draco, just knowing that it would take very little to fan that spark into a raging inferno. 

There were lingering looks between the two and touches that were just beyond casual. Harry found himself thinking about the moments he'd spent cradled in Draco's arms far more than was probably healthy. He found himself thinking about the future far more than he had before, wondering if there was a way that he could fit into Draco's life outside of Hogwarts the way that he had once fit into the Weasleys'.

"Hey, have you heard anything about Snape dating someone?" Harry asked one day as they wandered around by the Black Lake, oblivious to the cold air around them. 

"Yes," Draco said, chuckling conspiratorially. "Father was quite upset over it. He's dating one of the Weasleys! I'm surprised you didn't know."

Harry's mouth fell open. The only Weasley who worked for the Ministry, aside from Arthur, was Percy. "Well, I haven't exactly been close with the Weasleys for a while," he said, still in shock. Snape and Percy. That would take some getting used to. "Really? Snape and Percy?!" he said aloud.

"Well, I can see it," Draco said thoughtfully. "They are both quite uptight, aren't they? They're bound to let loose sometime, so why not do it together?" He snickered. "Still, I don't know what I'd do with all that ginger hair. And the freckles. Merlin!"

Laughing, Harry thought back to his former relationship with Ginny, if you could call it that. "Well, to each his own, I suppose. I've tried it myself, but I think I prefer a paler complexion." He glanced over at Draco and found him looking back, heat in his grey eyes.

"That's good to know, Potter," he said. "I'll keep that in mind if I meet anyone who fits that description."

~○~○~○~○

When Christmas holidays arrived, Harry and Draco stayed in the castle, though few other students did. They spent their days annoying Snape and lounging around the castle, free of responsibility and feeling almost like normal young adults.

Christmas Eve found them both in the Gryffindor Common Room since no other lions had elected to stay. Draco had made some complaints about the colour scheme, but dropped the issue when Harry lay back and dropped his head in Draco's lap.

As Draco's long fingers carded through his hair, Harry found himself understanding why cats loved to be petted so much. He was warm and comfortable in the lap of one of the only people who truly accepted him and he couldn't imagine anything better than this. 

"Say, Potter," Draco began softly, "Have you ever considered my offer?"

There was no need to expand on that thought. Harry knew exactly what offer he was referring to. Godric, had he thought of it. He thought of it in the dark, behind the heavy curtains of his bed as he slowly stroked his cock while his dorm-mates slept. He thought of it every time he lifted a glass of Draco’s blood to his lips, those grey eyes shining back at him, never leaving his. He thought of it often. 

"I… erm. Yes?" he said, eloquent as always. He sat up then and turned to face Draco, leaning close enough that he could feel the heat of Draco's breath on his skin. Tentatively, he reached out and brushed his fingers over Draco's jaw. "I think about it all the fucking time, Draco. I'm afraid, though. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you."

"I don't think you would hurt me, Harry," he said, his voice husky. "I don't think you could. But even if you tried, I wouldn't let you." His eyes burned into Harry's, burned with desire, with need, with something like affection.

Suddenly, he leaned forward, closing the gap between them and pressed his lips firmly to Harry's. Harry groaned, opening his mouth to let Draco's tongue slip inside. He wrapped his arms around Draco's neck as Draco pulled him into his lap. They sat like that, mouths joined together, bodies pressed close, snogging one another hungrily. Harry felt his fangs emerging from his gums and went to pull back, but Draco pulled him closer, driving his tongue into one of those sharp teeth and letting the blood from his tongue trickle into Harry's mouth as they kissed.

Harry's cock was almost painfully hard, but he could feel Draco's against his body and knew that he was feeling the same. "Merlin, Draco," he gasped. "The things you do to me."

"Don't I take good care of you, darling? Let me take care of you," Draco said, his voice thick with arousal.

"Yes," Harry begged, giving in because the alternative was unthinkable. "Draco, please. Take care of me. I need you." 

Draco was lifting him up and laying him on the floor, trailing little kisses down his neck as he unbuttoned his shirt. He pulled back briefly to tear off his own jumper and then he was back on Harry, kissing him deeply, their bare chests pressed together. Harry wrapped his legs around Draco's waist and they rocked into one another, both so needy.

When Draco pulled back, Harry whimpered. "Take your clothes off, Harry," Draco said. "Just one moment."

Scrambling out of his trousers and quickly tossing them aside, Harry watched Draco. He watched him unbutton his trousers and carefully lower them down his hips, ever so slowly revealing inch after inch of ethereally beautiful skin. Harry squirmed, knowing he was being teased but loving every second of it. His teeth were sharp in his mouth but the burning hunger that usually took him over was displaced by a hunger of a totally different sort. 

Finally, Draco kicked off his pants and stood there, towering above Harry. He was all pale skin and hard lines and Harry had never wanted anything more. His cock stood up proudly between his legs, long and hard and pink. Harry wondered if he'd ever be able to taste him without worrying about his fangs.

"You're beautiful," he breathed and Draco smirked as he lowered himself to the floor between Harry's spread legs.

"Thank you, Potter," he said. "You aren't so bad yourself." And then his mouth was on Harry's cock and Harry's hands were buried in that cornsilk hair. In an embarrassingly short amount of time he was warning Draco that he was coming but Draco did not stop. He merely flicked his wand and then began running a finger over Harry's freshly lubricated entrance. 

Perhaps it was the wordless magic that sent him over the edge, or maybe it was the sensation of Draco’s finger sliding inside him, but either way, he was gone. He shuddered, spilling in Draco Malfoy's perfect mouth. 

Draco pulled off of his cock gently, but his finger kept moving inside him, wringing every bit of come out of his body. He leaned over Harry then, kissing him hard on the mouth. He could feel Draco's hard prick against his hip and he could smell the hot blood running through his veins. The taste of his own come on Draco’s lips had his cock twitching with interest again already.

"Harry," Draco whispered against his lips. Harry looked up at him expectantly. "I want you to bite me, pet." He moved his hand quickly so that a second finger slipped inside Harry. "I want you to bite me as I slide my cock inside of you. Would you like that?"

Harry was overwhelmed. Did he want that? Absolutely. He had never actually imagined having someone's cock up his arse before, but now that Draco's fingers were there, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to have his body stretched wide around Draco, to feel Draco sliding in and out of him, to feel Draco's come spilling inside of him. And the thought of biting Draco at just that moment was enough to make his cock half hard again.

But did he trust himself to do that? Not especially. Thoughts of Voldemort flickered in his mind, not at all the mental image he wanted. He would kill himself if he hurt Draco and he knew how easy it would be to hurt him. He'd done it to the Dark Lord.

"My wand is right here, Harry," Draco said, interrupting his stream of consciousness and sliding a third finger into Harry's arse. "You won't hurt me. I trust you. Do you trust me?"

Whining at the slight burn he felt from having three long fingers inside him, Harry thought for a moment. Did he trust Draco to protect himself? Draco had lived with Death Eaters. He had lived through the same battles Harry had lived through and, honestly, had come out far more unscathed. Finally he whispered, "I trust you, Draco."

Smiling down at him, Draco slid his fingers out, rolling his hand around to stretch out his wrist. He pressed an almost chaste kiss on Harry's lips as he pressed his cock against Harry's hole. 

Ever so slowly, he slid his cock inside. Tilting his head, he bared his neck to Harry, tempting him with that fluttering pulse point. Harry's arse hurt, but it was a pleasant kind of pain, an intimate stretch, joining him to Draco. He leaned forward and licked at Draco's throat.

"Do it," Draco encouraged. "Go ahead, pet."

Taking a deep breath, Harry did it. He wrapped his arms around Draco tightly, cradling his head as he slid in and out of his arse. Kissing his neck one more time and he sunk his teeth carefully into Draco's flesh.

His teeth were incredibly sharp and they slid in without resistance. Suddenly, blood was flooding his mouth, rich and hot and sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted before. Sweeter than the Dark Lord's blood had been, sweeter even than Draco's own blood from a glass. 

He moaned deeply, almost overwhelmed by sensation. His cock throbbed between their bodies and his arse was stretched wide. Every few strokes, Draco's cock would brush a spot inside him that made him shiver in pleasure. His beautiful lover's head was pressed against his shoulder, his soft hair feathered out over his face. His lover's sweet blood filled his mouth and they were both utterly lost to the moment. 

One thing that Harry did not feel, however, was out of control. He was a slave to the feeling, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He felt Draco's rhythm stutter, he heard him gasp in pleasure. He knew when he had enough and he pulled back slowly and licked the wounds closed instinctively.

Just as he gave Draco's neck a final lick, he shuddered and Harry felt that hard cock spasm inside his arse, he felt hot spurts of come spilling inside his body. "Draco!" he gasped, and Draco reached down and began pumping his cock.

A moment later, he was following Draco, coming for the second time that evening, all over Draco's hand and both of their stomachs.

Slowly, Draco pulled his softening prick from inside Harry's body and lay down next to him, lapping at his hand and looking heatedly at Harry.

"Salazar, Potter. That was incredible. Do you know how long I've wanted you?" he asked, trailing his fingers through the fluid on Harry's skin.

"I think," Harry said, "that I really started wanting you in sixth year. I just didn't know what I was feeling at the time."

Smiling, Draco said, "It was fourth year for me. I made all those badges for you and you didn't even notice me."

Harry laughed, snuggling in to lay his head on Draco’s shoulder. "You git!" he said. "I had other things on my mind at the time, in case you forgot. But I rather think that 'Potter Stinks' is a poor seduction technique." He kissed Draco's cheek. "You're much better at it now."

Turning his head, Draco captured his lips in a gentle kiss. "Glad to hear it, Potter. You don't stink, by the way. You smell rather good." He wrapped his arms around Harry and buried his nose in his hair.

"You did so well, you know," he whispered as he started to drift to sleep. "You don't have to worry. I'll always take care of you."

Harry lay contentedly in his arms all night long. He was happy and warm and did not need to roam the castle.

~○~○~○~○

When Draco awoke the next morning, there was snow falling softly outside the windows.

"It's so strange being here," Draco said, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm used to seeing water first thing in the morning, not sky."

Harry hummed, burrowing closer to Draco and delighting in the fact that he could finally do so. "Maybe I'll stay with you in Slytherin tonight, then. I'd quite like to see your common room again."

"You can stay with me anywhere, pet," Draco said softly. "I think I shall keep you. I've waited so long, you know," he smiled teasingly at Harry. 

"Wait," he said after a beat. "Again? When have you seen Slytherin before?"

Laughing, Harry told him of that time in second year when they'd suspected Draco of being Slytherin's heir. 

Draco snorted. "I suppose I should feel honored," he said. "Although since it was actually Ginevra Weasley, perhaps I'd better not. I wouldn't want you thinking of her when you're with me." He tapped Harry affectionately on the nose. 

"Never!" Harry said laughing. He honestly couldn't imagine how he'd ever thought she was anything special now that he'd been with Draco. Hell, he had more in common with Snape than he did with her. What had he even been thinking? 

They snuggled for a few moments more, laughing and teasing one another before reluctantly standing to get dressed. Harry might not need it any longer, but Draco certainly couldn't afford to miss breakfast after the night they'd had.

"Do you think we could still be together next year?" Harry asked softly as he pulled on Draco’s discarded jumper.

"Pet, I told you I wanted to keep you," Draco said, cupping Harry's cheeks in warm pale hands, his eyes shining brightly. "I'd like nothing more."

"What will we do?"

"You have a house in London, yes?" Draco asked. At Harry's nod, he continued. "Then we'll stay there, if you'll have me, and we'll make love and maybe I'll work at the Ministry. We'll go and annoy Severus and Percy sometimes and, with any luck, our friends and family will come round eventually.

"It really doesn't matter, Harry. We'll figure it out together. I'll take care of you and you'll take care of me." He pressed his lips softly to Harry's, then grabbed his hand and led him out of Gryffindor Tower and into the castle.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," he said as they wandered the castle together, the morning bright and full of promise.


End file.
